


There are cracks in your mind, I feel them in mine

by Peachy_keen



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Penny POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 14:34:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22397698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peachy_keen/pseuds/Peachy_keen
Summary: Penny is in the Mirror world and all he can hear is Quentin’s mind, harsh and brittle and telling him to run.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 12
Kudos: 118





	There are cracks in your mind, I feel them in mine

Quentin had gotten better at his wards. This Quentin at least. Not that they saw each other much in this timeline but in comparison to his own it was a _goddamn relief_. He had spent too much of his time with Julia only halfway focused, trying to block him out, counting down time on a clock he hadn’t realized existed until the day he refuses to think about. 

Because as completely as he loved Julia, he had to admit her taste in friends was the one thing he wished he could change about her. Because Quentin was _always there_. And he leaked like a fucking sieve. Painting everything over with his anxieties and _Taylor fucking Swift_ and his not so low-key resentment of their relationship. It was enough to hate him even before all the bad shit happened. 

But Quentin 40 is better at his wards. And he’s not a _fucking child_ like his own Quentin and it’s just enough to take the raging animosity between then and hone it down to a mutually acknowledged dislike. 

Since the monster though, Quentin has been locked down. And Penny, well, Penny can admit to himself that he’d never seen anything like it. It had nothing to do with wards it was just his mind. Q was always a presence, nervous and twitchy as he was. He didn’t take up space necessarily, but he did, loathe as Penny was to admit it, spark brighter than most.

He had all but disappeared since the monster had stolen Eliot, a person shaped void where his mind should be. 

It was _freaky as **shit**_. 

He had gone and poked around for Q’s mind because he might be a zombie but _no he’s not dead yet Penny_ and found him, gathered tight and small with an iron force of will Penny never thought to see in an actual person, let alone _Quentin Coldwater_. 

Some of it was familiar. He’d seen what depression could do to the mind and the scars never truly healed over. Delicate like eggshells, but held together with determination and a desperation not to backslide. A specific kind of internal grip. 

Quentin though… to get in there now would be like splitting an atom. No safe or easy way. It was amazing that he wasn’t catatonic.

Outwardly though? He was keeping himself together. A completely normal amount of _oh shit monster possession_ going on. He smiled, he _cracked jokes_ , he focused _really hard_ on saving his best friend. And Penny might need to re-evaluate his thoughts on Quentin Coldwater because _Quentin_ and _good at lying_ were two concepts that existed far, _far_ away from one another.

Penny’s not sure what freaks him out more: how much of a _fucking wreck_ Quentin is, or how _good_ he is at hiding it.

So when Quentin’s voice comes through to him as they face Everett, the only path to the Seam in pieces behind him, he can feel it in the pit of his stomach.

_Penny_

It’s sharp and clear in a way that only the Beast had ever been.

_Penny_

He meets Quentin’s eyes over Everett’s shoulders, acknowledging.

_Penny I need you to take Alice_.

And his mind is open and Penny sinks in, has to fight to keep from being overwhelmed by the maelstrom in Q’s head. He starts clawing his way back and shit how did he not see how _old_ Quentin is? Which makes no fucking sense because as lined and tired as his face is there is no way his body is pushing _eighty_. The sheer scale of it crashes over him and he has to fight with most of his considerable skill to push himself clear. He ends up just under the surface, deep enough to feel the emotions and half formed thoughts. The odd sense of doubling in his head is disorienting and Quentin’s emotions - _Jesus how did he feel so much all the damn time_ \- are nearly more than he can handle.

_Run._

_I might not-_

_I don’t want-_

Penny sees the spell sitting in his mind and Quentin’s fear is enough to make Penny’s hand shake but not Q’s. Quentin is terrified and tired and rock solid sure about what he has to do.

“Take her. Do it now.”

And god help him he _does_.

He takes Alice and runs as the room explodes in golden sparks.

She’s screaming a torn out animal sound and she’s heavy in his arms in a way that has nothing to do with the physical and everything to do with how this moment will last for the rest of his life. How he will never not feel Alice in his arms, or hear her screams, or feel Quentin’s mind in his. He will never escape this room, this world, this memory.

And he is made of memories.

_Eliot in the rain, calling his name like it was a joy to see him of all people. The smell of steak and charcoal and the surprised burning delight of being called home._

_Spitting vicious words he halfway means because the terror of remembering the night before and what it might mean that the best thing his skin has ever felt might be the hands of **Eliot Waugh** and Eliot laughing like he can see it and it’s the best joke anyone has ever told._

_Eliot’s eyes shining as he placed a crown of red and black upon his head._

_A cottage._

**_“Not when we have a choice.”_ **

_Shying away from Idri as he comes aboard the Muntjac and looking anywhere but Eliot’s eyes because how can he keep anything hidden from him **now**? _

_Eliot’s hands on his arms. “I’m alive in here,” and joy and a relief so strong his knees go weak with it. The terror as his eyes roll and it’s coming back, **come back, hold on oh god Eliot please come back**._

_Eliot with a hole in his gut and **Eliot** behind his eyes and everything inside him screaming to stay even as he grabs at Penny to travel and-_

**_Oh god he’ll never-_ **

_Tell Eliot_

He’s pulled himself together for this one last thing and Penny can feel Quentin’s heart start to crush him.

_Fifty years, not enough **time** -_

_Eliot_

_Eliot_

_**El** _

_Eliot_

_I’m sorry_

_I wish_

_I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry_

_I love you_

_I love you_

**_I love you_ **

And he can feel the sparks hit, a tearing, burning, all consuming pain tears through everything that he is and everything that he was begins to dissolve away. And though he knows the futility of it Penny tries to hold on to all the heartbreak and pain and love that made Quentin Coldwater, in these last seconds, the most real person he’s ever known.

But it’s like smoke slipping through his fingers and Quentin is… 

And they’re back outside and it’s all he can do to hold Alice as she sobs. And this moment will never stop tearing him open because how is he going to tell Julia, tell Margo, tell _Eliot_ -

_**Tell Eliot** _

And he lets himself begin to shake apart.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments are appreciated! I don’t do a lot of writing so anything you have to say really helps me out.
> 
> Not too satisfied with the beginning but this was just a quickie to get all the feels out, who knows, I might end up editing it later.


End file.
